Continued....

After walking through multiple different rows between tents, and getting stared at by dozens of people, we finally stop in front of two large wood doors that stand at least fifty feet tall.

It appears to be built into the side of a cliff that overlooks the ocean, the land of Orelon spread out before us like it's on a platter waiting for us to either be its demise, or its savior.

Now I sound cheesy.

I look back, my eyes landing on a large, burly figure with four legs. And no, it's not just a horse.

A centaur.

I almost lost it as we were walking along and we kept passing strange creatures I've only ever read and watched about before. Roxie even let a squeak of surprise out when a young girl, maybe seven, ran past us and disappeared into a near tree.

Yeah, I totally didn't almost faint. I was totally prepared for that sight....

We passed plenty of other...odd creatures, among what looked like normal humans and more wood Elves.

Ron pushes up closer to me as a group of young boys run past us, only for them to suddenly stop and gawk at him like he's more interesting then the Centaur they just passed like it was the most boring sight ever.

Kids these days.

I place my hand back down on his head, and I look up in time to see the group of boys look up at me with wonder in their eyes, mouths even hanging slightly open.

My attention snaps back to the front as General Viscount opens one of the large doors that seem to dwarf us, a grating sound filling the air as it's pushed inwards.

  He steps inside, and Grim, who left Arveldis with someone I'm assuming does horses, follows him inside along with Baron. Neither having looked back once since we started out ten minutes ago.

Am I sensing some type of connection here between the two?

Dare and Roxie disappear inside without a word, and I give Ron one more look before stepping inside myself, ignoring the stares from the group of kids that only seemed to have gotten larger.

This isn't a star attraction here. Mind your own beeswax.

The air immediately grows heavy, and I can tell there's a large fire going somewhere by the smoky tinge in the air along with a sweltering warmth that seems to cling to my skin. The scene in front of me looks straight out of a movie with the large towering stone pillars lined up on each of our sides, small torches on the walls lighting the way, and a specific flag, I've noticed from walking through the camp, hanging from flagpoles with its exotic design I can't help but feel drawn to.

The main design appears to be focused on the four main elements; water, Earth, air, and fire. Then there's the two identical swords crossed in the middle with a unique pair of horse heads at the end of the hilt.

  We walk further down the hall, and I can't help but stay at the back of the pack, figuratively speaking of course, as a dread begins to grow in my chest.

The hall abruptly opens up to reveal a spacious room shaped like a oval, erratic designs and writings chiseled into the odd stone walls. It's completely bare, not even a chair in sight.

General Viscount suddenly turns around, his mouth open to say something. It snaps shut as his attention centers on Ron, who's trailing along beside me, eyes seeming to pop off his face a second as he comprehends what he's seeing.

Baron turns also, practically making the same response at Ron as General Viscount. Only his seems a little more comical as his mouth flaps open and closed a few times.

General Viscount's gaze shifts up to me, and his brow creases in confusion. There's a sudden bang that resounds out throughout room as what sounds like a door opens, General Viscount and Baron noticeably straightening before they snap around to face the opposite direction.

What are we......oooooh. That's what we're all staring at.

Up above, straight ahead, angled so they face the entrance, is a row of large seats sitting up in a alcove over the wall. And taking their seats, are six figures dressed in thick black and red robes, a cowl hanging so far over their faces you can't even make out what color their skin is.

Not that I care.....You know what, never mind.

"Lords and Ladies of the council." General Viscount gives them a curt bow, and I see Grim, along with Baron, do the same.

I look discretely between Dare and Roxie, wondering if we're supposed to do something along the lines of showing respect for the, 'Lords and Ladies of the council.'

Quite the title they have there. Hope they don't wear it out like some other jerks I know.....not personally though.

General Viscount and Baron stand a little up to the right, while Grim stands back with Dare and Roxie, and I seem to be hiding, not on purpose, behind them at a angle.

"Torion Crimsonghast. Glad to have you back."

The voice drifts down from up above, and I'm going to guess it came from the one in the middle.

Grim nods, looking up at them. "It's good to be back."

"Who have you brought with you this time?" A different voice than the last questions, and I hint a bit of discontent in it.

Does he hold a grudge with Grim too?

I look between Grim and the group up on their 'high chairs,' vaguely wondering what Grim's been doing to rub so many people the wrong way.

"I have with me one who wishes to join our cause." He motions to Dare, who's on his left, and she gives them a curt bow, looking way more professional than I'd given her credit for.

"This is Dare Farrell. Her father was a former royal guard and she has come to age and decided to follow in his footsteps - if you'll allow it." Grim bows his head down once he finishes speaking, but Dare keeps her gaze up on the six figures, face and eyes unflinching.

There's silence for a minute, and it's obvious they're talking amongst each other.

  Well, if this isn't intimidating I don't know what is.

I shift my feet, feeling highly uncomfortable for no apparent reason. Or maybe it's because both General Viscount and Baron keep glancing over at me like I won't notice when I'm actually acutely aware of each small movement they make.

Shuffling where they stand, drips of sweat running down the sides of their foreheads, eyes flickering between objects, never still.

They're nervous. But why?

I snap out of my thoughts as I feel something brush up against my leg. Ron stands on all fours next to me, red eyes staring across the ten foot of space at said two people, ears drawn back against his head.

Okay. Maybe I know why now.

Lowering my right hand, I place it down on his head, hoping it might be enough to keep him from attacking these people that seem to be bothering him.

Please don attack someone and get us thrown in prison.

"Dare Farrell, your request has been accepted." A over-confident voice booms, and I immediately sense her excitement. "General Viscount will assess and evaluate your position."

Well....

"Next I have with me two who wish to use the portal to return back to Earth." A heavy silence fills the air this time, along with something akin to dread.

"And why should we grant this wish?"

Grim quickly glances over at me before focusing back on the council. "They un-purposely were brought here by one of the hidden portals on earth. It isn't unheard of before, as you all very well know, it happens."

  More silence.

  I hold my breath, and I can't help but think Roxie's doing the same.

"What are their names?" A feminine voice questions, and they all also almost seem to lean forward in their seats.

Grim hesitates, appearing a little off guard from the question. He finally motions to Roxie, who slowly steps forward a step, her hood having already been down since we got here.

"Roxie Wright." Roxie surprisingly announces herself, her voice quiet, yet with just enough steel in it to carry it throughout the room with ease.

My heart thuds in my chest, sending a pounding buzz up in my ears. My hands grow uncomfortably clammy, a heat pooling in my head.

"And," Grim motions to me after Roxie steps back. "this is Callon Bates." My hand goes down to grip the hair on Ron's neck, using him to distract myself as another bone-chilling quiet takes over the room.

They know. They must know.

"Callon," a voice muses from above, obviously trying the name out as-if it holds some significance, yet doesn't know exactly why. "Does my memory deceive me, or does that name sound familiar?"

My chest squeezes, my eyes probably going wide from beneath my hood.

Why did my parents have to name me with a name that's apparently very uncommon?

General Viscount and Baron's faces suddenly contort to confusion as they more than likely find themselves going over the name, mulling it over in their heads.

Right as the silence verges on uncomfortable, that feminine voice once again speaks up.

"Ah, so he is here." The voice whispers, sounding almost breathless with a ago-old way to it. "Twelve years later and the child of our beloved king returns." 

And here comes the heart-stopping shock as everyone computes what she just said, the blood rushing to your head as more questions over questions begin to pile up in anticipation.

"No, Kerrie, your memory does not deceive you. I believe all of you realize whom it is we're taking about."

General Viscount suddenly steps forward, looking slightly flustered.

"You can't be speaking of king Thanguron's son!? That's ludicrously!" He blinks before continuing. "The one mentioned in the prophecy, the one who is supposed to save Orelon?" He takes a breath, and I almost find it funny as I notice his face has grown almost beet red.

"I demand to see some proof!"

I glance over at Grim, and he gives me a small, barely perceptible, nod.

Taking a deep breath, I lift my left hand up to the front of my head, gripping the fabric to pull it down while simultaneously stepping forward so I stand just a little farther apart from them.

The air immediately hits the side of my bare cheek, a relief from the sweltering heat almost instant. Though all that doesn't compare to the blaze I feel from Every. Single. Gaze that's now locked on me.

Can I just be the first to say, awkward.

General Viscount blinks a few times, his eyes slowly scanning over my facial features, my hair, before his mouth opens.

"No, it can't be." He blinks. "And besides, he's nothing but a child." He points out, making me want to roll my eyes.

Well, she did just say I returned after twelve years. So unless he assumed, though I thought everyone knew about how my fourth birthday party was ruined by light Elves invading Orelon, I was already older, than he must be severly disappointed.

My bad.

Grim grips his staff with two hands, leaning heavily on it like what he's about to say burdens him more than he would ever admit.

"Do not be so quick to judge, Viscount." He practically snaps at him, making me feel better. General Viscount noticeably tightens his jaw, shifting his handhold on his hilt at his side while Baron, who looks to be just a little older than me now that I look closer, looks between everyone with wide eyes.

Grim blows a tired breath out, focusing his attention back on the awaiting council.

"But regarding the prophecy and leading the army.....I'm afraid that'll have to wait."

There's a chorus of disbelief up at the top before it's quickly muffled. "Whatever do you mean?" A voice I've yet to hear questions.

Grim opens his mouth to finish, and I can't help but feel a gnawing guilt in my chest.

"Well, because," he hesitates, glancing over at me like he's waiting for me to confirm what he's about to say.

"He's not staying"

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A/N

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